


Damage Control

by irisbleufic



Series: Delicate, Dangerous, Obsessed [27]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 02:02:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12244923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisbleufic/pseuds/irisbleufic
Summary: “I want you to pay that cheating, lying,thievingingrate a visit,” Oswald railed, “and tell him—”“Thank you for your assistance today,” Edward cut in smoothly, taking a startled Oswald by the shoulders and steering him away from the door.  “All of you can go.  Even you,” he told Gabriel.[Falls in series sequence, but can be read as stand-alone.  Forlinearoundmythoughts, who wanted to see Ed fuss over Oswald after a bad day.]





	Damage Control

Edward emptied all three cartons of passata into the sauce pot that Olga had pulled from the cupboard for him. He transferred the olive oil in which he'd simmered a bunch of chopped onions and garlic directly into the passata; stirring, he turned to meet Olga's look of disapproval.

“This is not the best way,” she cautioned, eyes widening in slight alarm as Edward dashed liberal amounts of basil, marjoram, oregano, and rosemary into the pot. “Careless.”

“Maybe not, but this is how I've always made it for myself,” Edward insisted, reaching for the smoked paprika next, which seemed to distress Olga even further. “I made it while Oswald was recovering with me all that time ago. He said that he liked it. That my secret ingredient—” he shook the paprika harder, drawing a dubious hum from Olga “—reminded him of his mother's cooking.”

“What else goes in this hodgepodge,” said Olga, defeated, “before I must brown and add the meat?”

“Enough honey to give it a sweet edge,” Edward said. “Use the acacia. It's less overbearing, and—”

The sound of the front door slamming, followed by Oswald's tirade, startled them both into silence.

“Furthermore, Gabe,” Oswald scolded at full volume, “I can't believe you neglected to mention that you _knew_ Santino's drop would be shy of the agreed amount! That's unacceptable!”

“Oh dear,” Edward sighed, knowing full well what kind of day Oswald must have had to be screeching at Gabriel without regard for who else might be watching or listening. He put the paprika back on the counter, washed his hands, and folded his sleeves back down. “Finish this, just like I told you,” he instructed, struggling to get his cufflinks back in place as he made for the door. “Don't come out until I call for you,” he added over his shoulder. “This should take you a while anyway.”

“ _Da_ ,” agreed Olga, wearily, igniting the burner as she began to stir. “Please calm his temper.”

Oswald was, indeed, letting Gabriel have it. Zsasz and Vee, flanking the door, actually looked relieved to see Edward arrive.

Gabriel turned to stare at Edward, silently begging for a reprieve.

“I want you to pay that cheating, lying, _thieving_ ingrate a visit,” Oswald railed, “and tell him—”

“Thank you for your assistance today,” Edward cut in smoothly, taking a startled Oswald by the shoulders and steering him away from the door. “All of you can go. Even you,” he told Gabriel.

Oswald struggled against Edward's hold on him, gaping as their hired hands left in a grateful hurry.

“I don't know what you think you're doing,” he snarled, grabbing Edward's wrists, “but this isn't—”

Edward kissed Oswald before he could get another word in edgewise, pulling him close with such insistence that Oswald squeaked and let his cane clatter to the floor. He nuzzled Oswald's cheek.

“You've had such a hard day, Oswald,” he said placatingly. “I can tell. I should've gone with you.”

Oswald was still vibrating with fury in Edward's embrace, but his labored breath had evened.

“The last thing I needed is a reminder that I'm surrounded by incompetent...” Oswald trailed off, sniffing as Edward brought Oswald's left hand up to his lips and kissed it. “What's cooking?”

“I was working on it with Olga until you came in,” Edward admitted, loosening the belt on Oswald's coat, coaxing him out of the garment so he could hang it next to the door. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Dinner isn't your job,” said Oswald, peevishly, frozen on the spot as Edward dropped to his knees and untied Oswald's shoes. “I don't mind you making the odd breakfast, but this isn't...”

Edward guided Oswald's hands to his shoulders so that he could support himself while Edward, gazing up at Oswald in genuine adoration, tugged off one shoe after the other. “I missed you,” he said.

Oswald blinked at him in fond bafflement, shifting one hand from Edward's shoulder to Edward's jaw.

“It reminds me of something you made when I...” Oswald's brow furrowed as Edward turned his face into Oswald's palm; he luxuriated in the contact, drawing a sigh from Oswald. “Or my mother's...”

Edward covered Oswald's hand with his own, getting to his feet without so much as letting go of it.

“We have a while until the pasta's ready,” he said, steering Oswald toward the sitting room, refusing to pause until he'd stripped Oswald of his jacket, too, and settled him on the sofa. “I'll get you a drink.”

Oswald watched with weary, inscrutable relief as Edward made his way over to the liquor cabinet.

“I don't...” He extended a hand as Edward turned, questioning, hand on the decanter. “Need one,” he went on, clearing his throat, beckoning Edward back. “Ed, please come here.”

Edward nodded, relieved that alcohol wouldn't enter the equation until Olga served them the wine he'd chosen for dinner. He took smug satisfaction in Oswald's ever-softening perplexity as he knelt in front of Oswald for the second time in as many minutes and wrapped both hands around Oswald's calves. The muscles were taut.

“You're in as much pain as you were over the weekend,” Edward said, massaging intently. “You need rest,” he continued, “so you should take tomorrow off and let me go with Gabe to make...inquiries.”

Oswald, melting into the back of the sofa with a sigh, mussed Edward's hair with purposeful fingertips.

“You'll take Victor and the ladies, too,” he said, removing Edward's glasses. “Sveta needs experience.”

Edward finished his massage and climbed onto the sofa beside Oswald, tipping Oswald's chin up so that he wouldn't have to squint. He kissed Oswald deeply, insinuating a finger beneath Oswald's collar.

“Are you sure you don't want anything to drink?” he asked several minutes later, slightly out of breath.

“No, but I want to take you upstairs,” Oswald panted, loosening Edward's tie. “You know just what I—”

“I know _you_ ,” Edward insisted, shifting back onto the floor, “and Olga knows not to interrupt.”


End file.
